Tom Pynsent's character was, however, open, and above-board: he had firmly believed Anna Maria a party in her mother's schemes, and his attentions eliciting no marked return, it persuaded him her heart was safe, though her ambition might grasp at becoming mistress of Hatton; Julia would have become the equally indifferent object of an unmeaning flirtation, had not her sister's unexpected confidence seared her feelings towards him. But Tom Pynsent, the long-contested Tom Pynsent, the idol of Lady Wetheral's hopes, was now seriously in love with the lively, fascinating Julia, and Love could not teach his nature to dissemble a feeling which once took possession of his heart. He was found out, and quizzed most unmercifully by his companions, but Tom Pynsent had always a "rowland" for their "oliver." Young Charles Spottiswoode attacked him at his mother's party. "Why, Pynsent, people say you have no eyes for any girl but Julia Wetheral, and you do look dreadfully cut up when she dances with Ennismore, don't you?" "I dare say I do," replied Pynsent, in his usual loud tone of voice, "and, if I look cut up, you may depend upon it I am so." "Then you are fairly in for it, Pynsent," laughed his companion. "Yes, I am, but I suppose I have no chance with that d--d pinched-in waisted lord." Tom Pynsent's sentiments were given _pro bono publico_, and a group of gentlemen quickly gathered round him, some laughing at his situation, others sympathizing with him. Tom Pynsent never lowered his voice. "I dare say you are all quizzing me, but I don't care for that. I know I am in love with a devilish fine girl, so I'm not a bit ashamed, and, if that fellow with his mincing steps gets her, I can't help myself, but I'll be hanged if I hunt till I have asked her!" "We thought you liked the eldest sister, Pynsent?" said Mr. Wycherly. "Did you? I didn't, though. I like Julia Wetheral, and I don't care who knows it. Laugh away, boys, and hunt by yourselves, till I come among you again." So saying, Tom Pynsent coolly withdrew from the group, and stationed himself opposite to Julia, who was still dancing with Lord Ennismore. Anna Maria's ear had drunk in the whole conversation, which took place near her and her mother, though both were concealed from observation. Lady Wetheral listened, with joy of the deepest and most powerful nature, to the confession of Tom Pynsent's affection for Julia, and the restraints of society scarcely concealed the exhibition of its effects. Anna Maria preserved her calm demeanour, and bore with intrepidity the acknowledgment of his love for another. A common observer would have pitied the cold indifferent character of Miss Wetheral's countenance; none knew the pangs which were silently devouring her existence. She bore the outpourings of her mother's self-congratulation with unflinching steadiness.